


Reputation Grind

by pauraque



Series: The Perils of a Paladin [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Bestiality, Blood Elves, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, F/M, Fisting, Mag'har, Orcs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Subspace, Talbuk, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/pseuds/pauraque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyssa's got her work cut out for her if she wants to ride a talbuk, and I don't mean collecting beads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reputation Grind

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this years ago (probably when I was doing the Mag'har grind myself), and finally finished it to fill the 'fisting/stretching' square in the 2011 round of [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org), as it happens to contain both fisting and stretching! It also contains a whole lot of bestiality, so if that isn't your bag, there will be little to entertain you here.

Alyssa grits her teeth as she rides at the back of Thrall's procession, enduring the bumpy, donkey-like gait of the brown worg beneath her. She hates riding wolves, so inelegant and smelly, and she feels bow-legged around this one, her feet almost brushing the ground. It doesn't help that the orc riders in front of her are leaving her in such a cloud of dust that she can barely see the famed rolling hills of Nagrand— she can't see much of anything, in fact, beyond the wolf's ears and collar in front of her.

This wolf isn't hers, of course; it belongs to the Orgrimmar honor guard. She has done all too much traveling lately, playing messenger between the brown and green orcs, and none of it on her own mount, which is still back in Silvermoon recovering from the... incident at the Arathi lumber mill. (Alyssa maintains that she had no way of knowing divine shields aren't big enough for horses.)

So this is the way it has been, riding other people's wolves and filthy public wyverns — it's disgusting to think of how many asses have been in those saddles — back and forth, day and night.

She hears a triumphant shout from the head of the procession, but the words are lost on the wind. The wolf ahead of her slows and she reins hers in; they are entering Garadar at last. The Warchief is finally here to do his own diplomatic business, and should have no further need of her services.

As soon as they are inside the city walls, she dismounts the wolf and slaps it on its furry hip, sending it loping off after its pack mates as Thrall and his entourage make their way up to the highest tent. Their hollering has caught the attention of many of the brown orcs here, who are curiously heading up to see what the commotion is. Alyssa walks against the tide of them, towards the creek in the lower part of the town, rubbing her stiff lower back.

At the water's edge, she kneels down and rinses the grime of the road from her hands and face. Catching a glimpse of her reflection, she wrinkles her nose; her hair is a windswept mess.

As she tries to tame it back into a ponytail, a shadow falls across her. She looks up, and jerks in surprise at what she sees: a tall, deerlike creature lowering its long-horned head to drink from the river.

"Hello again, friend Alyssa." The greeting comes from the brown-skinned orc woman who now moves around the other side of the talbuk to offer her hand.

It's the stable keeper, the one who cares for their strange mounts. Like most of her kind, she is lightly dressed, her muscular arms and legs left bare, and bands of leather and beads criss-crossing her chest, leaving little to the imagination. Alyssa takes the offered hand and pulls herself up. The orc towers over her, of course. Alyssa tries to stand up as tall and straight as possible.

"I can't remember your name," Alyssa says bluntly.

"I don't think we've spoken," says the orc, openly sizing Alyssa up as well. "I know you because of the great help you have been to my people. My name is Nasela."

"Hopefully I'll be helping your people a lot _less_ in the immediate future," Alyssa says, rolling her eyes. "Acting as Thrall's personal messenger girl is getting old."

Nasela's sun-hardened face opens in a grin, and she laughs. "Truly, you have ridden farther than the wind! Even the wind does not traverse the stars."

"You're telling me." Alyssa's gaze drifts to the talbuk, still drinking quietly from the stream, its teardrop eyes half closed in contentment. "Maybe next time Thrall could ask for some of _your_ mounts to use."

Nasela pats the creature's flank with an odd sidelong smile. "Of course we would deny nothing to friend Thrall. But the talbuk is a very... selective beast."

"What do you mean? They only let Mag'har ride them?"

The smile turns secretive. "No. But few outside our kind have ever proven themselves able to master the... challenges of riding one."

"What kind of challenges?" Alyssa demands. 

"Come with me to the stables, and I will show you."

Alyssa hesitates. She is tired and was looking forward to a long sleep, but now that her curiosity is piqued, she finds herself with a second wind. "Yes, show me."

"Very well," says Nasela with a wry smile. "Come, Garwe." She clucks her tongue and the talbuk follows her without even a bridle, walking tamely at the orc's heel like a doting puppy.

*

The stables are deserted of people for the moment, with most everyone up at the Greatmother's tent. Alyssa notices right away that the stalls smell amazingly clean, though crowded with livestock. In fact, the only scents on the air are hay and the faint tinge of fresh sweat.

"Your stablehands are insanely good at their jobs," Alyssa comments as they walk down the line of stalls.

"Thank you. They are. But perhaps not as good as you imagine. The talbuk naturally have little scent," Nasela explains. "I believe it helps keep predators away."

Alyssa looks at the animals with a new interest. Noble beasts, more beautiful than horses and as clean as cats!

"They all look pretty tame to me," Alyssa says as they arrive at a large empty stall. "What's the big deal about riding them?"

Nasela lets Garwe the talbuk enter, and then stops to wash her hands and arms at a water pump along the corridor wall. "To win the trust of any animal, you must bond with her," she explains. She dries off her hands and enters the stall, beckoning Alyssa in after her. "Many creatures will bond with us as though we were their mother, or the alpha of the pack, thus learning to obey us," she goes on, stroking Garwe's brown mane. The talbuk leans into her touch with evident pleasure. "The talbuk do not do this. They can imprint on us only as an equal."

Alyssa raises an eyebrow. "An equal?"

"Yes." Nasela watches Alyssa's reaction carefully. "As a mate."

Alyssa lets this sink in for a moment, rapidly assessing her situation. The orc could be making all this up, but Alyssa doubts it. It's true that she's never seen anyone but a Mag'har riding one of the magnificent beasts... This would go a long way toward explaining why.

"And how do you get them to do that?" Alyssa asks evenly, crossing her arms with a put-on air of calm.

Nasela smiles. She runs her fingertips through the talbuk's short fur, scratching along its flank. "Much the way you would expect," she says in a lower, more purring voice. "Like us, the talbuk mate not only to foal, but also for pleasure." As her hand strokes nearer to Garwe's hindquarters, the talbuk's striped tail twitches and moves to the side, exposing the long, dark slit of her vulva.

Alyssa's heart is racing, but she is determined not to show surprise or reluctance now. She wants one of these beasts for her own, and if this is the only way to get what she wants, then so be it. How bad could it be? She watches in silence as Nasela's fingers slowly trace down along the side of Garwe's genitals, just where the fur ends. It's backwards from how we are, Alyssa thinks a bit dazedly— Their bodies have fur and their cunts are naked.

Nasela kneads softly around this sensitive area; the talbuk shifts her weight a little, shivering. Her labia begin to part like an opening flower, and Alyssa can barely believe it— The animal _likes_ it. Her inner lips are a surprising shade of bright pink, contrasting against the dark outer skin. Nasela continues to gently stroke, and as they both watch, the talbuk's vulva twitches and opens further. A coin-sized pink knot is growing at the bottom of it, and for a moment Alyssa doesn't know what it is. Then her mind turns it around and she remembers that the tail is at the top, and this can only be the animal's clitoris at the bottom.

She catches the scent of the animal's cunt, pungent and spicy, and amazingly like a woman's. Nasela's clean brown fingers stroke the thick juices from Garwe's hole down towards her clit, up and down. As Alyssa watches, the beast's cunt opens and pulses, her clit growing almost penis-like, the shaft of it bulging beneath glistening pink skin. Alyssa has seen men with cocks smaller than this animal's clit.

Nasela rubs her palm against the shaft of it, and Garwe snorts, paws the straw beneath her hooves. Alyssa backs up in alarm, hands up, afraid of being kicked.

"Don't worry," says Nasela with laughing warmth. "Garwe and I know each other well. There is no danger." The orc presses her fingertips into the yielding opening of the talbuk's cunt, and the animal leans her hindquarters back into the touch, letting out a sort of whinnying moan.

"The talbuk lust like orcs," Nasela murmurs, easing three thick fingers into the hole. "They are always in heat, and little is needed to inflame their desire."

As Alyssa watches with a thrill of delicious horror, Nasela sinks her entire hand into the animal, and then further, her wrist and half her forearm disappearing into the beast, who shuffles her hooves, groaning now with every breath. Alyssa can see how the talbuk's cunt grips her arm, can hear the wet sucking sound as Nasela fists her firmly, moving her arm back and forth.

She raises her other hand and rubs her palm firmly up and down Garwe's pulsing clit. The animal goes wild, nearly bucking back into Nasela's touch and her intruding arm. With a crescendo of bestial moans, the animal comes, her cunt spasming and gripping Nasela's arm so hard that the orc grimaces in pain, but Nasela keeps up the pressure on Garwe's huge clit, letting the animal tremble against her until her climax is through, as any good lover would.

After a moment, the pressure seems to release, and Nasela slides out. There is a short gush of fluids from Garwe's cunt onto the stable floor, mixed with a spurt of piss. Alyssa edges back further, watching wide-eyed as it splashes to the ground.

"She is a strong creature," Nasela chuckles, shaking out her dripping arm and wriggling her fingers.

Garwe turns in her stall and nuzzles Nasela's shoulder with a soft nicker; Alyssa notices that her hooves avoid her own wet spot in the straw. Nasela scratches her ear tenderly and kisses her on her furry cheek. Then she clucks her tongue and leaves the stall, her animal lover following tamely behind her as before.

After a moment, Alyssa realizes she is just standing there like an idiot, and hastily follows the pair out, finding herself at eye level with Garwe's still-wet pussy, drooling and turning the brown fur dark around her vulva. She edges awkwardly around the beast, finding Nasela washing her hands and arms at the pump again.

Alyssa clears her throat. "So, how often do you, uh... have to do it? To keep them tame?" She tries to sound casual, but finds her voice comes out oddly squeaky.

"We do not consider it an obligation," says Nasela, looking at Alyssa sternly. "It is a pleasure and an honor to be the lover of a talbuk. I am making love to Garwe, not offering her a treat to win her obedience. A person who considered it that way would be no better than a whore."

Alyssa draws herself up, affronted. "I'm not— I didn't mean it that way!"

"Then you still wish to give yourself to a talbuk?" Nasela's expression goes soft again, gazing down at Alyssa with what might be a spark of desire.

"Well..." She does still want to ride one of these magnificent beasts, but an uncomfortable thought occurs to her. "When you say _give_ myself... I can still have sex with other people, right?" she asks in a confidential whisper.

Nasela laughs aloud. "Of course! Among the talbuk, as among the Mag'har, pleasure is freely shared, not selfishly hoarded."

Alyssa grins. "Now you're talking."

Nasela gives her a friendly clap on the shoulder that nearly knocks her over. "Very well! Let us go to the pasture, friend, and you can choose your new companion. Come along!"

Both Garwe and Alyssa follow after her, Alyssa having to break into a half-run to keep up with the orc's eager strides.

*

The pasture, just beside the town of Garadar, is a lively place. Some of the talbuk are grazing, but unlike horses, they do not merely stand and gnaw the grass; instead they play and chase, nipping at each other, while others lean together, nuzzling. Nasela leans with her arms crossed against the fence, but being shorter, Alyssa has to stand on the base of the fence to see over it, clinging to the rough wood as she gazes at the herd.

"These are all young, none of them promised to a rider," Nasela says. "I expect any of them would soon accept you. Except my Garwe, of course — she is the mother of the roan yearling, do you see?"

Nasela points, but Alyssa can't pick Garwe out. When they're moving, the animals' stripes make it difficult to tell at times where one talbuk ends and the next begins. Perhaps it helps to confuse the predators of this land.

There are so many choices — pale tan, roan, bay, gray, and even charcoal-black. In truth, they are all beautiful, and Alyssa isn't sure how she can be expected to choose, or even what she should be looking for...

Then, she sees.

A tall, lean one with fur white as snow and stripes black as night; a fine, noble head held high, dark curving horns glinting in the fading haze of the afternoon sun.

"That one," Alyssa says instantly, hopping up onto a higher slat of the fence and pointing out across the field. "That gorgeous white one, there!"

Nasela hesitates.

"What is it?" Alyssa says, crestfallen. "She's spoken for?"

" _He_ is not spoken for," Nasela says.

Alyssa looks again, and sure enough, she can see from here the tuft of fur at the end of his cock-sheath, like a bull.

"To ride a stallion is a commitment even most Mag'har are unwilling to take on," Nasela says delicately. "There are many beautiful fillies, as you can see..."

"Oh, come on!" Alyssa laughs. "How bad can it be? Not to be crude, but I've jacked off a cock or two in my time."

Nasela smiles wryly and shakes her head.

It dawns on her. She hops down from the fence, blinking.

"I'm only thinking of your comfort, of course," Nasela says congenially. "You are, after all, smaller of build than a Mag'har. It is no commentary on your courage..."

Alyssa bristles. "We elves _do_ have magic, you know!" She pokes Nasela in the chest, glaring up at her. "Even if I did get hurt, I've healed up from worse. Hundreds of times," she adds boastfully.

"Well... If you are certain..."

"I'm certain," Alyssa says, arms crossed. "I want the white one, whatever it takes."

"Very well," Nasela says, and as she bows her head in acquiescence, Alyssa thinks she sees the hint of a smile.

*

Alyssa tosses and turns on her flat, uncomfortable bed in the Garadar inn. She readily agreed to Nasela's suggestion that they wait until tomorrow to bring in the white stallion — not because she wants to put it off, of course, but because she really is tired from her journey.

She was less enthused when Nasela strongly advised that she avoid... relieving her needs tonight, because the 'strong scent of lust' was supposed to be attractive to stallions. Alyssa isn't entirely sure the orc wasn't having her on, but she supposes it _could_ be true.

Of course, knowing she can't do anything about it, Alyssa's pussy is throbbing like a teenager's. No position is comfortable. When she flops on her stomach, it's too tempting to grind against the bed, and when she rolls over on her back, it's too tempting to give her excited clit just a little stroke... Alyssa has replayed the memory a dozen times in her mind — the scent of hay and sweat and Garwe's pussy — the talbuk's grunts and moans of climax — Nasela's big hand dripping with cunt juice — Shit, she wants to touch herself. Just a little touch wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Alyssa isn't used to denying herself anything; she's been getting off whenever she wanted since she was a girl. She slides her hand beneath the linen sheet and strokes her pussy lips gently, surprised at the sloppy wetness and at the sudden wave of pleasure that teases her clit.

"Ugh, they're gonna think I pissed the bed," she grumbles, feeling the growing wet spot beneath her drooling cunt. She throws the useless flat pillow over her head and lets out a growl of frustration.

She tries to sleep, but as soon as she can manage to stop thinking of Garwe, her mind only torments her with thoughts of tomorrow. She's seen animals mate before, of course — yowling cats, dogs humping and stuck together in the street, even a pair of deer once while patrolling Ashenvale. She remembers the buck scrambling atop the doe, desperately stabbing his skinny pink cock at her hindquarters before finding his mark.

What if the talbuk's cock really is too big? What if she can't take it and she makes a fool of herself in front of Nasela? In truth, she fears humiliation more than pain. But it's hard just now to even imagine a cock being too big, with her cunt feeling so desperately empty. Eyes closed, she imagines the white stallion scrambling to mount her, parting her lips with a huge, horselike prick... Raising her hips off the bed, she imagines coming again and again around the stallion, begging for more.

Will she please him? Can she match the powerful contractions of Garwe's climaxing pussy? What could be more humiliating than being rejected by him, not good enough even for an animal?

She arches her back, shivering. She's already dripping with desire, just thinking about becoming his mate, isn't she? So dirty, so horny, to lust for a beast...

*

Alyssa doesn't remember falling asleep, but when she wakes up it's full summertime daylight, and she hurries down to the inn's common room, having only a roll of bread for breakfast, finding herself too nervous to eat more.

She seeks out Nasela and finds her in the stable, watering some foals.

"Friend Alyssa, awake at last!" The orc grins brightly. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Sure," Alyssa says, trying to force a casual tone. Nasela certainly looks relaxed... Alyssa wonders sourly if she enjoyed the pleasure last night that she herself was denied.

Nasela leads her to a quiet room off the main stable, where there is a large bale of hay with a blanket over it, a stool, and little else. Alyssa's heart is fluttering wildly, her mouth feeling dry.

"Wait here," Nasela says. "I will bring him. I took the liberty of leading him inside earlier."

Nasela is back in a flash, leading the white stallion on a bridle. "Pardon the ropes," she says. "Once you are lovers, he will follow you without them, but for now..."

Alyssa stands back, astounded. She saw before that he was bigger than the others, but was not able to appreciate from a distance just _how_ big, his shoulder coming up higher than her head.

"Greet him," Nasela says. "Don't be shy. He does not know you yet, but he will not act with aggression unless you give him some cause."

Tentatively, Alyssa reaches up a trembling hand and strokes the stallion's nose. He snorts— Alyssa yelps and jerks her hand away; Nasela chuckles and guides her hand to his ears, showing her where to scratch. To her surprise, he leans immediately into her touch, his lavender eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

"Very good," Nasela murmurs. "I think it will be a good match indeed. His name is Bazule."

"Bazule," Alyssa echoes in a whisper, stroking his neck, half-entranced. "Hi." His eyes have thick black lashes and seem to shine with the light of intelligence, much more so than any animal she's seen.

"Good," Nasela says again, quietly. "He knows you are a friend. Now you must make your intentions known."

"How do I tell him?"

"Your words are useless here," says Nasela, who seems to be suppressing a smile. "Your hands will speak for you."

"Should I touch...?"

Nasela nods.

Swallowing nervously, Alyssa runs her hands along Bazule's immense body, stroking and scratching. She traces his stripes, fascinated by the catlike softness of his fur, so unlike a horse.

His testicles hang like great plums in their dark sack, but she hesitates to touch there... She leans down and draws her palms to his belly. He shifts his hooves slightly, but does not object.

His sheath is as white as the rest of his belly, and when she touches it, she is shocked at how soft it is, at how easily she can feel the shape of his dormant cock inside the warm skin. It is nothing like she expects, and the electricity of this first touch burns itself into her mind, something she will never forget.

She strokes his sheath with light fingertips, not wanting to hurt this tender part of him. Nasela still holds the bridle loosely, but he can turn his head to look at what Alyssa is doing, and does so. She meets his curious gaze, having a moment of utter surreality as the animal calmly watches her touch his genitals.

Gaining courage, she cups the sheath in her hand and strokes more firmly, and almost instantly she feels the swelling inside. Bazule paws and snorts a little as his cock begins to grow. Alyssa gasps as the moist pink tip of his penis emerges from the furry sheath, the same bright color as Garwe's clit. She keeps rubbing and his cock keeps growing, sliding out more and more, twice as big as a man's — three times as big — more — long and thick with a sleek pointed tip.

"That's enough, don't tease him now," Nasela warns. "To be stroked to climax without mating is very frustrating for a stallion."

Alyssa drew back and stood up, flushed with pride and arousal as she takes in her handiwork, gazing at the excited stallion's muscles rippling, his erection stiffly bouncing as he dances sideways.

"He's ready," Nasela says, stroking his neck. "You get ready for him now."

With a little wave of panic, Alyssa hastily takes her clothes off, both eager and afraid. She hops up onto the blanket-covered hay bale. Is this it? Is he just going to—?

Nasela leads the stallion over, and without warning she dips her fingers in Alyssa's wet cunt, making her squeak with surprise.

The orc holds up her hand, coated in Alyssa's juices, to Bazule's muzzle. The talbuk sniffs noisily at the offering, and then his long pink tongue emerges and he slurps at it like a deer at a salt lick.

"Ah..." Nasela sighs with pleasure. "Some stallions enjoy licking before they mate. I think you will be lucky."

As Alyssa watches, feeling frozen to the spot, Nasela guides the talbuk's great head down between Alyssa's legs. He snuffles down there too, soft muzzle nudging against Alyssa's pussy, and then he tastes her.

"Oh—!" she cries, and then _ohh_ again, lying back with legs spread wide. His tongue is huge, slithering up her pussy over and over again. It is bizarre, this animal licking her and thinking not of her pleasure, but of her delicious taste. He nuzzles around her opening, cleaning up the sloppy mess her horny night left there. But he barely touches her clit, seeming to do so only by accident. It is driving her mad, and she is about to say as much when Nasela speaks.

"That's enough now," she says, evidently to Bazule. She leads him forward, and he walks over the hay bale, over Alyssa — she can see him licking his lips as he moves past, and craning her neck down, she can see his pink, bobbing prick coming towards her. Feels its softly pointed tip brush against her vulva, and gasps sharply, hands clenching in the hay.

Nasela speaks words of encouragement as she gently guides him; Alyssa feels his cock slide down to his target and press in slowly, firmly... Opening her first a little, then more, then _more_ as he sinks ever deeper into her, stretching beyond what she ever dreamed she could take. A delirious moment when she is sure that this will go on forever, that his cock will stretch her on and on until she breaks— a fragile toy, destroyed by this towering beast.

But she doesn't break. He stops, his cock buried into her, his hindquarters flush against her body, his short fine fur rubbing against her inner thighs. She feels him shiver, hears his hooves shuffle against the floor as he adjusts himself.

"Good," murmurs Nasela from where she holds his head. "He's all the way in you now." Her voice is soothing to the beast, but Alyssa can hear the edge of tense arousal too. "I will let go of his head, and he will mate you." A shudder of delicious fear thrills through Alyssa's body; Bazule snorts above her, as though impatient to be set free with his mate.

"I'm ready," Alyssa breathes, well aware that she is lying.

There is a quiet metallic click as the lead is removed from Bazule's bridle, and Alyssa hears Nasela's feet crunch in the hay as she steps away. She clucks her tongue— giddy-up.

The massive animal hunches back on his hindquarters, pulling his penis halfway out of Alyssa's pussy with a long, wet slurp. She begins to draw a breath to steady herself, but before she has even done that, Bazule rams himself home, expelling her half-breath in a raw cry.

Bazule fucks her with short, hard, deliberate strokes, his muscles flexing above her, his skin twitching in the moments when he is all the way inside her, his massive animal cock buried to the hilt. Each hard thrust wrings another cry from her lips. She reaches up and puts her arms and legs around his powerfully flexing body, as far as she can reach. He is taking her, claiming her as his mate, and she does not resist. She wants nothing more at this moment than for this animal to own her, to take his pleasure from her. She can't imagine how she could ever want a lesser cock again — the fucks she's had before now seem like being diddled with a pinky finger compared to being completely filled and truly mated by this creature.

She hears a low moan— it is Nasela, sitting on the stool a few yards away, her legs spread and loincloth pushed aside to rub her own cunt. She catches Alyssa's gaze and smiles broadly, openly taking her pleasure from the scene.

Shutting her eyes tight, Alyssa feels the climax start to smolder within her, but not quite catching fire. Bazule is stretching her _so_ taut that she finds herself struggling to come, as though his cock is so big that her cunt can't grasp it, can't clench. So helplessly _open_. There is nothing she can do, no way to fuck back against a beast who weighs a thousand pounds. Bazule owns this too, he owns her pleasure, he decides when she can come. 

The feelings are too big, so big that she is crying, red-faced, as Bazule's thrusts reach a peak and he comes inside her, his huge body shuddering, twitching. Enjoying his mate.

When he draws his cock out of her, it seems to take forever, longer than when it went in. He is softening, withdrawing, and when he is gone, his come spills from her pussy like a waterfall onto the floor. She rubs herself frantically with both hands, finally coming, shaking, curled up on her side.

As she lies there trembling, as her breath slows, she feels a soft touch brush against her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, and it is Bazule, gazing at her with curious concern.

Nasela is there too, helping her stand — Alyssa leans heavily on her, legs feeling wobbly, mind in a daze. Bazule nuzzles her bare shoulder, and she finds herself reaching up for him, embracing his neck. He stands still and strong as she presses her face into his fur, and a feeling of warmth and comfort surges through her body, relaxing her. Yes, she is his, not only to mate, but to protect.

"You did well," Nasela says quietly. "He is your lover, now."

*

Evening is falling as they ride out of Garadar. Bazule's gait is as smooth as flight, and Alyssa barely has to guide him— it is as though he knows her thoughts even before she does. The Mag'har turn with looks of surprise as they pass; Alyssa's face is warm, but she holds her head high, feeling an odd mix of embarrassment and pride. She is certain she'll get used to it, though she isn't quite sure yet what she's going to say back home when the inevitable questions are asked.

Nasela is on the hilltop, smiling and waving to them as they head out the gate. Alyssa waves back, and Bazule nickers, tossing his head in high spirits.

And so they ride on towards Shattrath, Bazule seeming eager for the road, eager for adventure. He breaks into a canter, and Alyssa doesn't hold him back. She shifts a little in her seat, a twinge of pleasure in the way her body feels against the saddle.


End file.
